Hidden Talents
by DreamerAngel99
Summary: Abby was a normal, albeit loud teenager, until she had her Dream and a certain Demon started appearing near her. When Abby's sent to a school for 'special kids', where everything is not as it seems, she has to work with Ivan Braginsky to save everyone without getting killed in the process. RusAme. AU.
1. Chapter 1

It was a hazy Monday morning that Abby woke up to as her phone blared siren noises. The sky was dark, and a full moon hung low, almost obscured behind a thin sheet of clouds; its yellow light penetrating the clouds and pooling in on her bedroom floor as she sat up and stretched, blearily blinking.

" Mom? Dad?" Is anyone up yet?" Abby threw off the sheets, expecting yellow light beyond the threshold of her door. Instead, there was only darkness. Abby stepped into her eagle-shaped slippers and cautiously walked downstairs, the steps creaking and groaning. She turned the corner and opened the door to their room, stepping in and walking towards them. Seeing her mother first, Abby gently shook her, but her mother didn't wake. She shook her mom harder, but she only managed to turn her face towards her, the shadows dancing on her mother's still, ashen face.

Abby froze. Still, ashen face? She ran to her father's side and jerked his face towards her roughly, but his face was also as cold and white as marble. "Dad?" She asked. "Mom? Anyone?" Her voice slowly rose until it escalated to a shriek, and single tear slid down her cheek.

"This isn't right. This has to be a dream. This isn't real. This isn't real." Abby silently walked back out the master bedroom and closed the door gently, before fleeing back to her room, repeating her mantra with tear dripping from her eyes. If the person who killed her parents was still here, then the safest place for her was her own territory; her room. She walked to her window and looked outside, but the view was different. The familiar, suburban neighborhood she had lived in all her life was now instead a silent street full of a ramshackle houses, ranging from huts to mansions. Abby smiled to herself.

"I knew it! This is a dream. Or a nightmare. Dude, you're talking to yourself in a nightmare. You must be crazy or something. I don't know. That's kinda creepy too."

"I must agree with the last few things you said." Abby jumped, and drew in a breath, before a large, gloved hand covered her mouth and the hand's owner chuckled.

"You are quite the talkative one, aren't you? And for you to be what you are, well, that is a strange phenomenon indeed." A high pitched giggle escaped from her captor's mouth, Abby bit the hand over her face. Her captor snatched his hand back.

"Dude, whatever you are trying to do won't work, 'cause I do taekwondo and stuff, you know. I'm like the hero, and you're like this weird creep whose being all personal space invading. So I suggest you run, like, now." Her voice wavered as she felt hot breath on the back of her neck. Her hand groped around for some form of defense, until she felt something sharp. She slid her hand around it, hefted it up, and swung it around, but there was no one there.

"Silly girl. You should know better than to swing things at _me_." Abby glared around the room, trying to pinpoint where the intruder was, her hands clenched into fists. Even if this was a dream, she had to be the hero. She had to avenge her parents. She frantically ran around her room until she ran into something solid. It was a person who happened to be taller than her. Though he himself was standing in the moonlight, his face was obscured by shifting shadows.

"You have something that many people want. Many that our kind want. It is powerful, and could very well result in the destruction of many lives, homes, even this world. You would do good to hide it away with me, where the people who would use this object for malevolent uses cannot reach it. They would not dare encroach on our territory." Abby shook her head and stepped back, tripping over her feet and falling backwards onto the carpet.

"Let me put it simply for your puny little brain to understand." His voice had a dangerous edge to it. "Either you give me what I want or I will hurt _them_." He jerked his head towards the master bedroom.

"You can't! And besides, It isn't possible for me to do that either if I don't know what you freaking want from me." He merely frowned and bent down towards her level. Abby swore at him as the floor fell away and the sky dimmed to a dull black. She screamed as her vision became blurry and faded to black. She screeched until her head hit her pillow, unconscious, and the figure in the scarf faded away to nothing. The lights on the street blinked, wavered, and fizzed out, and a figure swathed in dark shadows swept away from the sole light that remained.

Not a sound rang out on the street.

The next morning, Abby woke up and immediately bolted downstairs for her parents' bedroom. She flung open the door to see her mom sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, and her dad rolling back over to go back to sleep. A grin broke out on Abby's face and she flung herself at her parents, laughing heartily. Her dad sat up and rubbed his head, dazed.

"Nightmare?" Her mom asked knowingly.

"Yup. And it was really awkward and horrible too," Abby chirped. "This really creepy guy was all like 'I want your voice' and I was all like, 'that's great man, but I kinda need my voice'. He looked kinda familiar, though."

Her mom and dad exchanged worried glances, and her dad leaned over to whisper something in her mom's ear, his green eyes cloudy and brown hair messy from sleep. She nodded and turned back to Abby, who was now pouting.

"Honey, maybe it's best you stay away from those new friends of yours. I think that all those scary stories they tell aren't helping your nightmares one bit."

"What, Arthur and Elizaveta? Yeah, they're kinda weird but I think they're pretty awesome. Though they have some weird friends…." Abby smiled, thinking of the only one of their friends she had met so far, Francis. Arthur and him had gotten into a fistfight upon seeing each other, and Elizaveta had promptly hit them both over the head with her frying pan. Her mom frowned even more.

"Francis Bonnefoy, here?" She whispered to herself. "But I thought…" she trailed off. "Never mind," she sighed, and forced a smile towards Abby._ I will take care of that later. _"Go get dressed. Didn't you have some test in History today?" Abby groaned, mumbled something about failing, and trudged out of the room.

" It won't be like her parents. We won't let her know. After all, what she doesn't know can't scar this family, right Emma?" her husband said.

"Right, George."_ It has to be all right. She can't turn into one of those freaks like Arthur is, like my sister was. _

But what they didn't know was that Abby didn't _need_ to be exposed to a magical site. She wasn't just a vessel for a type of magic; she was a channel of a type of magic. And that magic had been unleashed last week; her sixteenth birthday.

** Hey everyone! It's a new RusAme story, woohoo!. Hope you guys like it! Updates will most likely be on Fridays every two weeks. Please review and leave some constructive criticism! In the meanwhile, back to finals studying for me. **

** -dreamerangel99**


	2. Cold Winds

Glennandale High was an average high school in a typical suburban neighborhood. The old brick walls of the school were hidden behind a cluster of oak trees that dotted the expanse of the school grounds. Their shade provided cool, shady spots for the lucky students that snatched up those spots to stay out of the searing heat of the afternoon sun. A small lake sat undisturbed next to the school grounds, the sparkling, blue water reflecting the clear sky.

Glennandale itself was a little over a decade old, which showed in the weather-worn and doodled upon bricks that made up the outside of the school, its namesake's plaque lying somewhere in some janitor's closet on the premises. The red and white was faded and decorated with chalk doodles and hearts and some long forgotten students' names. The pavement around the school was dull with the wear and tear that came with age, and the cracks in it were becoming clearer and clearer with each passing day. All in all, it was a good, average school in the middle of an average American town.

This is where the students were milling around, waiting for the school to open its doors, and under a decade-old oak tree sat three more students. One was a girl with long, dirty blonde hair, and green eyes that were not unlike a cat's. A pink flower was woven into her hair, and instead of her usual smile, she wore a serious, concerned expression. Her name was Elizaveta Héderváry, and she was a friendly, likable girl from Hungary with a mysterious attachment to her camera.

A teen, this time a boy, with similar piecing, green eyes sat against the trunk of the old oak, his face tipped back as he stared at the sky. His messy blonde hair was cut short, and his face was scrunched into an irritated expression. This was Arthur Kirkland, a British student who was a serious, gentlemanly type, unless it concerned one Francis Bonnefoy.

The last of the trio was Abigail F. Jones; a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American who was known for her incessant talking and outgoing personality.

"You guys really are weird, you know?" Abby said as she dug through her bookbag in search of a book. "Crap. Do either of you have a spare book, 'cause Whitten will _kill_ me if I don't have a book for his class again. Something about food for the brain or stuff. You know him. And he hates me for some reason!" Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grumbling to himself.

"Abby, you do know that Mr. Whitten only hates you because most of your work is sloppy and last-minute in his class. Did you even read any of your book assignments?"

"Course I did! I read that one with those three ghosts and that Scrooge person." She grinned at him, sitting down and tugging Elizaveta with her. All three sat cross-legged, waiting for the school doors to open.

Arthur sighed. "Sometimes your words are so stupid, they make me start doubting your actual level of intelligence." Abby bristled.

"My intelligence is fine, thanks! I'm smarter than people take me for!" Elizaveta laughed and shook her head.

"Whatever you say." Abby grinned at Elizaveta, then glared.

"What's that supposed to mean, Liz?" Elizaveta, suddenly lost in thought, didn't answer. Her eyes gazed at the few, wispy clouds scattered across the now grayish blue sky. Suddenly, a cold breeze swept through the air, causing them to shiver and stare at the sky. Even though it was winter, the weather stubbornly remained warm. Almost all the kids at the school grounds were dressed for warm weather, so the sudden wind caused many of the teens to shiver and huddle closer together in their little groups.

Arthur murmured, "The United States has strange weather patterns. Almost reminds me of home." Abby shivered again, but it wasn't from the sudden chill in the air. She had lived in this little town all her life, and she had never felt the temperatures drop this steadily, this fast, and she felt that something was wrong.

"You have a strange taste in companions, Jones. They are almost as strange as you are," a low voice murmured in her ear. The same deep, resonant voice that had sent chills through her in her dream. Abby jumped and swiveled around, her eyes darting from side to side.

"I know you're there. I heard you, freak! Stay away from us, or I swear-!"Elizaveta interrupted her rant.

"Abby. Abby! Stop, there's no one there! There never was anyone there!" Elizaveta gripped Abby's shoulders, her fingers turning white. Around them, a few bored students watched, amused as Abby violently shook herself out of Elizaveta's grasp. Arthur jerked up and went to stand behind Abby, his demeanor suddenly changing.

"There's no one there," he said, his voice soft. Abby glared at him and tried to back away in the other direction.

"Yes, there was. Yes-" Elizaveta firmly grasped one of Abby's arms, motioning for Arthur to do the same as Abby tried to wriggle out of her grasp.

"No, there was no one there. Abby! Abby, people are staring, get some sense in your head!" Elizaveta hissed. Abby reluctantly stopped screaming as she noticed the stares from her peers. "Now, if we let you go, will you stop acting like there's a murderer right in front of you?" Elizaveta asked, sternly. Abby, her glasses askew, squinted at her, sighed, and laughed.

"Whatever. Sure, that's cool with me. Hey look they're opening the doors!" A mass of heads turned towards the doors, which were being pushed open, and waited expectantly for the bell to ring. The temperatures were still dropping and by now had reached the mid-fifties. For everyone outside, it felt like an eternity before the bell rang, and as soon as it did, a strange phenomenon occurred. Instead of a steady, slow trickle of students walking wearily in, a mob of people rushed at any door that led inside. The staff of the school, all with their mugs of coffee, blearily stared outside, their eyes widening at the rush of students entering the hallways. More than one cup of coffee was stolen from unsuspecting teachers.

Abby didn't even wait for the other two as she joined the rush of teens trying to get into the building.

In the meanwhile, two figures, separated from the throng, walked away from the school building.

"Why are you walking this way?" Elizaveta asked Arthur, her face turning red from the cold.

"I wanted to try something," he replied. "This cold doesn't feel right." She nodded and continued walking with him, nearing the edge of the schoolyard. "It's a good thing we sat so far away from the school building in the first place; we'd have been late if we were any farther away."

"Why does it matter? This isn't _our _town, or _our _school. And besides, we're doing more than we have to, going to this school every day. All we had to do was get close to Abby in the first place." Elizaveta shifted uncomfortably in her shoes. Arthur glanced at her and grinned, green eyes lighting up like a cat's.

"No, we're not using her if that's what you're worried about. It's not called using someone if you're protecting that person. And I like going to this school. It's fun to see what normal people are like. You don't have to come if you don't want to. Wait, ah, here it is. Step onto the pavement for a sec. We can go back after that." Elizaveta glanced at him, saw he was serious, and stepped onto the pavement. Suddenly, her body became warm and she stopped shivering. She looked at Arthur and saw his face was losing some of its redness.

"It's warm! That's weird. It's like the school and its surrounding areas are in a bubble of cold weather." She frowned. "It feels like the seventies or eighties out here, and in there," she nodded her head towards the school, "forties and dropping even lower."

"Most likely, it is. I bet you that all that heat is being sucked somewhere else. I'm guessing that it's a magical exchange of some sort, and probably some really cold place just got a lot warmer. And at this level, this big a 'bubble', it could only be Braginsky." He grimaced. "I've stayed in touch with Kiku, Yao, and to some extent, Bonnefoy. All three of them said the same thing, that the Headmaster had talked to Braginsky recently about something or the other, and that lately Ivan's been missing from campus. Probably something to do with Abigail F. Jones, from what Abby told us of her dream." They turned and started trudging back to the school.

Elizaveta glanced around. "I doubt he's here now, though. Also, I made sure to talk with Feli-don't make that face Arthur-Ludwig, Roderich, and Katyusha every so often, too. They all told me the same thing as you were told, and even Kat had no idea what it was that Braginsky's been up to. I also heard there have been more attacks on humans and magical civilizations. The other side's getting bolder, and I heard a Council was called. Forces and Attack teams are starting to assemble everywhere, including Hetalia. Rumors are the army's assembling again. They're doing everything they can to train all of us in preparation for war." Arthur laughed.

"The people aren't even suspicious that some other intelligent life might exist under their noses. It's true; this world is small, but really? Wiping out humanity so we can 'start over'? Trying to find a way to open up the gate to the so-called 'sister world' that doesn't even exist? That's what the other side wants to do, and they most likely have an insane leader who wants to secretly rule the world, or maybe even a group of leaders that wants to do that, and they're just using this motive, which is bad enough, for their own gain, in the end."

"I wouldn't be so skeptical. You weren't raised in our world. And that second part is _always_ true. We just haven't found out who the leaders are yet."

"It's the same world. And I'm not the only one that thinks, no, knows, this other world doesn't exist beyond our imagination! It would be nice for all magical creatures to have their own world apart from this one so there's less danger that they would be discovered, but seriously?" Arthur wrung his hands, frustrated.

"It's not up to us to understand their motives; it's up to us to stop them. And if we want to do that, then we've got to not lose our heads, literally and figuratively," Elizaveta sighed. "I only hope that when the time comes, Abby will be in the right place, with the right people. I hope she will find what the power of _Siren, _her Talent, can do, because it is so rare that only the most ancient books, which have been long lost, contain the information about what her Talent can do." Elizaveta stared ahead, her words fogging the air, and suddenly broke out into a smile.

"But today, that doesn't matter. Come _on_. Arthur, they're gonna close the doors!"

"You sound like Abby," he laughed. "I guess she's rubbing off on you!" And they both ran inside the door, walking off to their respective lockers.

** Hey guys! I know. I'm a week late, but it was Christmas and exam week, and I was reeeeeaaaaally busy. Also, I wrote part of this chapter, forgot to save, wrote it again, scrapped it, and then wrote it one last time, and checked it over in fifteen minute intervals because I started it on my sister's laptop, and she doesn't like it when I'm on without her permission, which is pretty much every time I need to use it. Anyways, I'm sorry I'm so late to update! By the way, can someone tell me how to spell Ukraine's human name? I'm not the best at spelling. Review and leave constructive criticism, please! Belated Merry Christmas and Early happy New Year everyone!**


	3. The lonely Red Swing

**I just realized I haven't put a disclaimer on this yet.**

**Disclaimer: I'm a girl in the US of A. Nope. I don't own Hetalia.**

**I'm so sorry everyone for not updating sooner! I've just had studies and tests and life was hectic. But I'm back! Yay(or maybe not...)!**

**Anyways, other important stuff.**

**Luna: Thank you! I will continue writing, I promise. Even though I am a sucky Authoress.**

**Updates: Every month, until summer. Then my schedule will probably change.**

**Anyways, thank you to all my readers and reviewers for taking the time to read this! It really makes my day when someone reviews/follows/favorites/calls me up on my phone and yells at me!**

A few hours later, Abby swung her backpack over her shoulder, shut her locker, and turned towards the school doors as she tried to turn on her phone. The phone blinked, and displayed a message for a few seconds.

_Not enough battery power to switch on. Your phone will shut down now._

She groaned. Having no ride home today, she had resolved to walk home and rely on Maps for directions, not knowing that her phone was out of battery.

_Well then, screw all that. And everyone's gone already! Oh well, it ain't all that far away, I guess. I'll just walk it, and hopefully remember some sort of direction._

Her mind made up, Abby made her way across the school grounds and carefully studied the maze of streets ahead of her. Hesitantly, she stepped off the worn pavement and crossed the street.

Seven minutes later, Abby finally accepted the fact that she was lost, and became to grow increasingly irritated from there. She was hot, stuffy, annoyed, and craving a hamburger. Having no idea what to do, she decided to linger around the area and see if any one she knew would pass by. After all, she hadn't walked too far away from her school, and the houses that she had seen looked a lot like her own.

She cast glances around the area, scrutinizing it as if she was a scientist studying a specimen. The grass was a patchwork of green and yellow, growing tall and scraggly in some areas, but lush and green in others. It looked as if no one had tended to the grass in years, and the wildlife grew feral and untouched because of it. Yellow and pink buds dotted the expanse, but not a sound was heard, as if something had scared any animals away from the place. Off to the side of her vision, she saw a little swingset, and stepped closer to it. Coming nearer, she noticed what she couldn't see from farther back.

The swing set was old. Its hinges were rusty, and they creaked more than occasionally. The swing's red seat had now faded and dulled with age.

_Is everything in this town so old? This looks like it hasn't been touched in ages…._

She reached out to touch its weak links and ran her finger down them; the eerie silence making her heart beat louder, faster. She closed her eyes and wondered who had last used this swing set, and what had happened to them. A light breeze swished through her hair and whispered secrets in her ear, taking her back to another time, a time when the trees hadn't been so aged, the ground so scarred.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit her, and she felt weak, tired. Her body felt cold, then warm, and for an agonizing second, it felt as if she'd been frozen and then dipped in a volcano. Her eyes flew open, and she clenched her teeth to keep from yelping in pain.

_Abby opened her eyes to a younger world. Yellow daffodils sprung up from between blades of emerald green grass, and a tiny pool of water sat untouched next to a swingset. She gasped; it was the exact same one, but different. Its seat was a bright hue of red, and the metal links were polished and gleamed silver in the afternoon light._

_ She walked over to it and sat down gingerly, but it supported her weight and she relaxed, letting out a little breath. Gently pushing her feet off the ground, she gazed up at the unbroken, grey sky. The sun's rays weren't in sight._

_ "Daddy! Daddy, look! There's a person on my swing! What's she doing on my swing?" A little girl ran out from behind the trees, tugging along a man with slightly graying hair and brown eyes behind her. Their clothes were old fashioned and looked like they belonged somewhere in the seventeenth or eighteenth century._

_ "Yes, Akantha. I see her. Don't worry; I'll talk to her when we get there and you can have your swing, okay?"_

_ "Yes, daddy." Obediently, the girl nodded and instinctively tightened her hold on his hand. The duo continued walking towards Abby, who stopped the swing and got off, holding it out for them. The little dark-haired girl's face lit up and she started walking faster, breaking into a run and jumping on top of the swing, dangling off it. She pumped her legs rapidly, trying to push off the ground, but her pushes had little strength in them. A little smile flitted across Abby's face and vanished as she saw the man approaching her._

_ "How did you find this place?" asked the man. Abby glanced at him questioningly._

_ "Um, I kind of walked here," she answered. "It's not that hard to find."_

_ "And what was your purpose for coming here?" he questioned. She shrugged._

_ "I was just walking home, and I guess I got sorta lost." At that, the man tensed._

_ "A mundane like you," he muttered under his breath. "This is worrisome." And with those words, he left her and walked to the swing._

_ "I'm confused as hell," she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes, and the same feeling from before overwhelmed her senses._

She opened her eyes to see only a rusted old swing and no one in sight. Her hand was still on the swing like before, and she distantly heard the sound of engines from far away.

_What happened?_ But her surroundings offered no answers, so she sat down on the little swing and decided that she should probably get home.

Of course, she had no idea where the hell she was.

Suddenly, from behind her, there came the sound of leaves crunching underfoot. She tensed; someone was here. Warily, she stopped the swing and stepped off.

"You are lost, da? Silly little Abby, what a stupid girl you are." A giggle rose into the air, disturbing the silence. She glanced at the owner of that voice, finally being able to put a face to the voice that had disturbed her the past few days.

He had silvery-blonde hair and strange, violet eyes. His smile was soft and childish; in fact, his whole face was lit up with child-like glee. His accent was definitely Russian, and he was definitely the creepy stalker guy from before unless he had an evil twin of some sort.

"You!" She glared at him, balling her hands into fists.

"Well, that would be obvious. I am me, or more precisely, Ivan."

"What, too cool for a last name?" His eyes darkened, and a menacing aura radiated out from him.

"Do not intrude on my privacy, or I shall have to beat your head in with my pipe. And I do not wish to get my pipe dirty. I just cleaned it yesterday."

"So then, are you a serial killer?" He laughed, and she flinched back.

"What if I am? You are only a little girl- child and you cannot harm me. You will not harm me." His grin widened. Abby trembled and tried to keep her voice from wavering. There was no doubting the fact that this Ivan was insane.

"And why won't I harm you?" Abby steadied her breath and let her hands relax, trying not to show fear. She was alone, there was a mentally unstable man standing in front of her, and she had no idea where she was. Abby shook her head and grinned to herself, wondering how in the world she could be so stupid as to get herself into a situation like this.

"I have your parents. They are with me, and if you do not come with me, then both of us will have a problem, da?" His eyes darkened. "I suggest you come with me if you wish to see your parents unharmed." Instantly, Abby's demeanor changed. Anger consumed her thoughts.

"Where are my parents!" she screamed, rushing at him. Ivan stood and watched her quietly as she pounded him with her fists, screaming obscenities. He winced slightly, and after a while of watching her hit him over and over again, he decided he had had enough. Calmly, he swung his pipe at her head and she fell to the ground, unconscious. He picked her up, swung her over his shoulder, and walked away from the red swing.

Ivan glanced at Abby's face for a moment and briefly, an uncomfortable look crossed his face. "There is no more time for regrets," he whispered to himself. "Only revenge, and to get back what was lost." He shuddered. "Natalya… I do not know why anymore. I do not know why."

Behind him, a lone red swing swayed gently in the breeze.

**This is going reeeeaaaally slow. I dunno, it seems like a filler chapter. Will have a (hopefully) better chapter out soon. In other news...yesterday, my sister and her friend were playing jump rope and they held it out a little higher than my waist length. Being the smart person that I am, I was running, I saw it, and tried to dive headfirst over it. I cleared the jump rope, but my chin(which I landed on) is not faring so well. *Sigh* I'm pretty idiotic sometimes. **

**Well then, this has been Life Updates with dreamerangel99. See y'all next time! ;)(review?)**


	4. Hit the Road

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Never did, never will.**

**EDIT: Fixed mistakes. Sorry!**

* * *

Ivan Braginski swerved to avoid the drunk driver behind him, gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel slightly tighter. A silver Lexus shot past him, and he winced, muttering under his breath in Russian. Out of habit he slowed, not wanting to get caught for speeding again.

Not that he had an actual license to confiscate. Or birth certificate. Or any form of identification. After all, he was supposedly a citizen of Russia.

He was also supposedly dead. But he didn't like dwelling on that.

They had crossed the border from Utah into Idaho a while ago, and now they were heading straight for Idaho Falls, where the Academy was located. Or should have been located. Hopefully, it hadn't moved to Orange yet, though he doubted that the scheduled relocation _hadn't_ been cancelled yet, with the amount of strange sightings that the Americans were reporting. In the last three months alone, UFOs, as they were more commonly known, sightings had increased at a 47.3% rate than normal. There were more grainy images of the Loch Ness Monster surfacing around the internet. In these last three months, forty-nine total ships and planes had disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle.

Something was wrong. And the whole world was holding its' breath for the cataclysmic event that most people fathomed was on the horizon.

So why had Headmaster Vargas made him kidnap one puny, troublemaking girl instead of continuing training for the (hypothetical) war?

At least she wasn't being a disturbance at the moment. Her lips were pressed into a thin, pale line and her hands were clenching and unclenching. He could see thin trails of blood where her nails had dug into the palms.

Of course, when he first tried to capture her, she had kicked and screamed, and it took a few hits to her thick skull to finally knock her unconscious. After that, Ivan had slung her slender frame over his shoulder and carried her to the car, already irritated by the amount of screaming and resistance he had put up with. It had been his luck that he had forgotten any handkerchiefs to stuff her mouth with and only brought the rope. The girl was more of a pain to bring in than he thought she would have been.

Especially the screaming. Really, that girl screamed like a banshee.

And then she had gotten up again as soon as he put the keys in the ignition. Fortunately for his eardrums, he was able to knock her out quicker. And he tied her up for good measure, too. And after waking up and finding herself tied up, the Jones girl had finally gotten it through her head that this would happen every single time she tried to escape from him, and this was not going to help her predicament anyway. Nor would he tell her what had happened to her parents.

Ivan suspected that the amount of screaming she had done hadn't worked wonders for her voice either. A tiny smile graced his lips. Her throat was probably aching like hell right now.

When he glanced over and saw her sipping some water, wincing as it went down her (probably sore) throat, he smirked. She refused to meet his gaze.

Her eyes were very blue, he noted idly. Like the sea.

Suddenly, a loud screech resounded through the air, accompanied by the smell of burning tires. Car horns blared as Ivan glanced in the rearview mirror and swore. It looked like the drunk had hit someone. In his messy haze of thoughts, he had forgotten that it was dusk, they were on a freeway, the freeway was crowded, and that right now, there was a driver who was drunk off his ass, and who had no control whatsoever over his basic motor functions.

The scene behind their car was a mess of metal, rubber, and blood. One grey Accord was lying in the middle of the road, flipped over. Other cars desperately swerved to avoid each other in the chaos, blindly turning left and right in desperation for an exit. Ivan narrowed his eyes; if he looked at the driver's seat hard enough, and tilted his head just so, he could see in the windshield of the sleek, silver, BMW that was right behind them. And all thoughts of the mess they were in left his mind.

Instead of a human, the seat was occupied by a sinister-looking wisp of black smoke.

Now, Ivan had not had much experience with sinister looking wisps, but he was pretty sure they were bad. Lower-class demon bad.

_We must leave. Now._

Ivan floored the accelerator, deftly maneuvering the car through the fray. He had had years of practice at this, and that little wisp-thing was _not _going to overpower him.

He refused to think of the consequences of that happening.

"Wha-What the hell are you doing? What was that? Slow down, I'm too young to die!" Ivan grimaced. Abigail. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten that she was there. Now he remembered her habit of blathering on at the _worst _possible moments. The other times he had to actually fight beings, he didn't have an annoying nuisance with him.

"Shut up. I am simply trying to get us into Idaho alive," he replied.

"That car's following us, ya know," she trailed off, gazing into the rearview mirror. It took a few seconds for her brain to register what it was seeing before her eyes grew wide, panicked. "There's nothing in that car. Oh my God, there is nothing in that car. The freaking driver's seat is empty. Crap, it's a ghost! There's a ghost chasing us, and that car's totally gonna overtake us; Dude are you even listening to me? There's a ghost in the car and- dammit it's getting closer! Drive! DRIVE!" Ivan gritted his teeth. The clash of lights and noise and screams was irritating him, making it harder for him to focus on weaving through the cars littering the freeway.

The BMW was getting closer, ramming past the other cars. Ivan let out another string of curses, wondering why he had chosen to drive on the freeway. A green sign overhead stated that the next exit was in 3.2 miles; time enough for the car to catch up. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he could see the streak of silver weaving through the crowd, coming closer. Their SUV could never surpass that speed.

For now, he just focused on weaving in and out through the barrage of cars. In…out…the monotonous rhythm was almost as fast as the speed of his heart, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Flickering images, farmland passing in a blur, all the tranquil beauty of the Idaho evening was left behind. Carnage followed the chase as cars careened into each other, smashing and swerving and scraping against each other with the same purpose; to not become another piece of contorted, dented metal strewn haplessly across the road.

Ivan smiled grimly. He could hear the faint sounds of sirens; no doubt the freeway and its exits were blocked by police cars and helicopters were circling ahead. Suddenly, he brought the car to an abrupt stop. Pulling the keys out of the ignition, Ivan said, "Stay." He retrieved his pipe and left the car before Abigail could say anything.

Just a few feet behind them was the BMW. The car was dented, and some of the paint was peeling off, but it looked to be in better condition than their SUV.

Which wasn't really saying much. The SUV's windshield was cracked, its' fenders were twisted up, the grille was bent at an odd angle, and the side of the car was completely dented. And one of the side view mirrors was missing.

Wrenching open the door, he saw no sign of the wisp that had been there previously. Ivan sighed, tugging his gray scarf a little looser around his neck.

He knew he had seen something. And the lingering smell of smoke and dirty laundry proved that there had been something there. The wisp had probably left in the time when the car stopped behind them and Ivan came over. The fact that the wisp was gone irritated Ivan, but it probably had been a lower level demon, like he had originally thought. It might have not wanted to risk a fight with Ivan, because of his parentage.

Ivan kicked at the door of the car, glaring. He had been looking forward to a good fight to ease the tension inside his mind.

The flashing lights were getting closer now, he realized. Too close. He needed fog to make it harder for them to see, because he knew that the police probably had a photo of their license plates. Or maybe not. There _were_ a lot of cars, and he had forgotten just how far modern technology had gotten. He would have to ask about that. But first he had to conjure up some fog.

And rain would be a good touch, too. Just for extra precaution.

He hurried back to the car and wrenched the passenger side door open, pulling Abigail out. She looked bewildered and angry, but Ivan could tell that she had seen the flashing lights and heard the sirens, and that police squads were heading their way right this moment.

"What?" she started to ask, but he shook his head and cut her off.

"Explanations later," he said. "Follow me." And seeing the look on his face, she tried to comply, instead stumbling and falling to her feet because of the bonds. Ivan dragged her over to the silver car and shoved her in, watching the night sky. Fog was rolling in thick now, and heavy raindrops were starting to pelt from the sky.

"What are you going to do?" Abby yelled, her voice faintly rising above the wind.

He held up two license plates that he had found earlier in the back of the minivan. Professor Beilshmidt had probably put it in there; he was one of the very few teachers at the Academy with both common sense and foresight.

"We can wait it out. After that- we'll see." The fog was thick enough for him to start working, and it seemed to dissuade the search for them as well.

After half an hour, he heard a shout from inside the car. "Hey! You- er, with the scarf! Look what I found!" Ivan's eye twitched in annoyance.

"What?" He poked his head inside, a brush in hand.

"Dude, are you seriously painting? Well, anyways, so since I didn't hear the ghost for a long time I decided to open my eyes, ya know, not like I was scared or anything, but check this out! Keys!" His eyes widened; she was right. And after a closer inspection, he realized they looked familiar.

"Gilbert," he hissed, violet eyes narrowing.

"What?" Abby responded, confused.

"I'm coming inside; wait." Tossing the empty paint canister in the back of the car, he ducked inside and sighed. "The paint job wouldn't fool them for a second if they could see us."

"They have searchlights," she smirked. "And once they find us, you're gonna go to jail anyways, so might as well just let me go now." Ivan watched the girl struggle in her bonds.

"Not likely," he finally said. "That fog is –different, you could say. I doubt their searchlights and radar and whatever else they possibly could use can penetrate it." In fact, the amount of energy required to keep that fog rolling in was sapping at him, and Ivan wanted to sleep. He had been missing out on sleep for too many days, and he knew there was only so much longer he could keep up the fog and rain before he lost all his strength.

"So, since we're waiting here, tell me," she stated.

"Tell you what?"

"Why you kidnapped me. I mean, you haven't done anything weird, ya know? Except for being all pissy and stuff. You haven't done those things that kidnappers usually do." Ivan shook his head.

"You know nothing about me. Therefore, you can't just assume things," he pointed out. Then he sighed, he was so tired, and a distraction would be welcome. "Yes, I will tell you some of it, or as least as much as I know."

"Spill," she said, looking at him expectantly.

"I _am_. Your kidnapping was on a need-to-know basis, so I haven't been given much information. Ah, there is the basic stuff."

"What basic stuff?" she questioned.

"The things sane, normal people who lead a mundane lifestyle do not believe in," he said.

"Try me."

"Magic does exist. Of course, it is secret information and not spouted off to random humans. Whole communities of magical beings thrive on Earth, living hidden right under your noses. There are schools that teach how to wield magic properly, and they move around the world for safety. Even though most of us do not like living like this, hiding, in fear of being another scientific experiment or being killed, we try to live peacefully and avoid human confrontation. Some of us don't. Some of us want war, to be able to rule the world for themselves. That 'some of us' is growing. And somehow, the Headmaster of a particular Academy thinks you're important. I do not know how. I do not particularly care either."

Abigail stared at him, mouth open. "What the hell?" she muttered. "I always knew you were a deranged lunatic." Ivan grinned slightly, stretching his arms out behind his head.

"Considering the others, I think of myself almost sane. Anyways, that is all I shall say. When we reach, you can ask Vargas all of your questions." He muttered something under his breath and then shifted in his seat and yawned. "Shut your mouth now. Your voice is annoying me." She glared at him again, before shifting over in her seat, trying to find a way to loosen the ropes around her arms. They didn't speak again until the fog had cleared and Ivan had (somehow) found a way out of there while Abigail was asleep.

Ivan hit his head against the steering wheel, accidentally causing the horn to blare. He just wanted to be away from the bratty American girl.

* * *

**A/N:**

***Hides***

**I'm so sorry! I honestly did not mean to leave this for so long, and I would have updated sooner but- *insert excuses no one wants to hear from me here***

**...**

**Now that that is over with, I hope y'all like the chapter! Big thanks to KokoLolo for beta reading this chapter, and all of you for alerting and favoriting and reviewing!**

**Anyways, leave a review? :)**

**Also, next chapter, we meet a whole slew of ****_very_**** familiar faces.**


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